Читать книгу The Greek Tycoon's Bride - Helen Brooks - Страница 7

CHAPTER ONE

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‘YOU’RE not seriously telling me you’re actually considering going to Greece, Jill? You can’t, you just can’t.’ Sophy tried very hard not to glare as she looked at the small, slim girl sitting opposite her but it was hard. ‘You don’t owe Theodore’s family a thing and you know it. Michael is seven years old now and they have never so much as acknowledged his existence.’

‘Well, they didn’t know about it for the first couple of years,’ Jill said reasonably.

‘And when they found out? You’d have expected some sort of contact—a letter, a phone call, something.’

‘According to Christos, the family did try to write but they never received an answer to any of their letters.’

‘And you believe that?’ Sophy’s voice was scornful, her violet-blue eyes expressing her opinion of Jill’s in-laws as forcefully as her voice.

‘It is possible, Sophy.’ Jill gazed miserably at her twin, her own violet-blue eyes dark and tragic and her face very white. ‘Theodore was a very proud man, excessively so—you know that. He said he would never forgive them and he meant it. He…he could be implacable when he made up his mind about anything.’

‘But he would have talked to you about it,’ Sophy pressed urgently. ‘At least to tell you he’d received some correspondence?’

‘No.’ Jill turned away, busying herself folding some washing she had just brought indoors. ‘Not necessarily, not if he’d already made up his mind. When we got married he told me I was his family from that point on and that he had no other, and he meant it. I wasn’t allowed to even discuss them, if you want to know the truth.’

Sophy stared at her sister’s bent head and not for the first time wondered how happy Jill’s marriage had really been. But that was irrelevant now anyway. Six weeks ago Theodore had been killed in a freak accident when the car he had been driving had been crushed by a falling tree at the height of a bad storm.

With that in mind, Sophy now said gently, ‘But the funeral, Jill? They never even came to Theodore’s funeral.’

‘Christos told them it had been Theodore’s wishes.’ And at Sophy’s loud snort of disbelief, Jill raised her blonde head and looked straight at her sister. ‘It was true, Sophy. There were letters which Theodore had placed in Christos’s safe-keeping some years ago. I didn’t even know anything about them until Theodore died and then Christos felt he ought to tell me before he sent them to Greece. I think he suspected what they contained.’

‘Letters?’ Sophy took a quick gulp of coffee as she watched Jill continue to fold the washing in the big wicker laundry basket on the kitchen table. ‘Letters to whom, exactly?’

‘To his family. In…in the event of his illness or death. Of course he didn’t expect it would happen so soon or suddenly—’ Jill stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath before she continued, ‘Anyway, Christos and I made the decision to open the letters and read them before we sent them, the day after the accident, and then…then we destroyed them. But Christos felt he had to phone the family and just say Theodore had left instructions he didn’t want them there.’

Jill now stopped speaking, laying her head on the edge of the laundry basket in front of her and bursting into tears. Sophy jumped to her feet, rushing to her twin’s side and putting her arm round Jill’s shaking shoulders as she said urgently, ‘Oh, love, what is it? Come on, everything will be all right.’

‘They were awful, Sophy.’ As Jill raised streaming eyes, she was choking on the sobs she was trying to stifle. ‘Really awful. So bitter and hard and cold. I…I couldn’t send them. Not to his mother and everyone. Think how they’d feel after what has happened to Theodore. So—’ she reached into the laundry basket and extracted a newly dried handkerchief from the pile of sweet-smelling washing ‘—so I burnt them. I burnt them all. Do you think that was wrong of me?’

She raised haunted eyes to her sister’s face and Sophy stared at her, her blue eyes reflecting her concern for her beloved twin. ‘Of course not,’ she said softly, smoothing back a lock of fine, ash-blonde hair from Jill’s brow. ‘What good would it do to just perpetuate all the misery? Heartache breeds heartache.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ Jill dabbed at her eyes as she said, ‘Christos said the decision had to be mine and mine alone, and once I’d made it he said he agreed with me, but it’s been like a lead weight round my heart ever since. Theodore gave those letters to Christos, believing Christos would do what he wanted, and I…I burnt them. He would never forgive me if he knew.’

It seemed to her that Jill’s husband had majored in unforgiveness, Sophy thought grimly. She had always had reservations about Theodore and the two of them had never hit it off, something Sophy knew Jill had sensed from the first time she had introduced them. Consequently Jill had been guarded in anything she said about Theodore and for the first time the two girls had had an area in their lives in which they were less than totally frank with each other, although neither of them had acknowledged it.

It had been less of a problem than it might have been, owing to the fact that within three months of Jill meeting Theodore—just after the two girls had finished university— Sophy had been offered a wonderful opportunity on the strength of her degree in Maths and Business Studies to work in London as a trainee buyer for one of the top fashion companies.

She had left Cambridge—her home town—within the month, just days before Jill had discovered she was pregnant with Michael, necessitating a hasty register office wedding which Sophy had attended before shooting off back to the capital. From that point the twins’ lives had gone in very different directions—Jill looking after her family and helping her husband in his very successful restaurant business, of which Christos was a partner, and Sophy following her own star in her dream career and rising to her present position of fashion buyer.

Sophy had always held the private opinion that Theodore had got her sister pregnant purposely, knowing Jill was unable to take the Pill due to being the one woman in several hundred thousand it made ill—but she had been wise enough to keep her suspicions to herself. However, over the years she had seen her sister change from the bright, sparkling, happy creature of former days to a mere shadow of the old Jill: quiet, withdrawn and totally under her dominant husband’s control. But Jill had never complained and had always changed the subject when Sophy had tried to ascertain if all was well, and so she had had to leave the matter of Jill’s marriage alone and respect her twin’s privacy.

‘So…’ Sophy brought their attention back to the letter lying at the side of the laundry basket which had started their discussion in the first place. ‘You feel you ought to go and meet Theodore’s family, then.’ She could understand her sister’s decision a little better in view of what had transpired, although it still felt like allowing a lamb to walk into the wolf’s den.

‘Just for a short holiday, like they’ve suggested. They can meet Michael and, more importantly, Michael can meet them and get to know the only grandparents he has.’ The twins’ father had walked out just after they were born and their mother had died some years ago.

‘And then?’ Sophy asked gently.

‘Then we’ll come back and carry on like before,’ Jill said quietly. ‘I can help Christos in the business; we’ve already talked about that, and Michael can carry on at his present school with all his friends. I wouldn’t even think about staying out there, Sophy, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

She didn’t know what she was worried about exactly, except that if the family were anything at all like Theodore they would persuade her easy-going sister that black was white. Jill had always been the malleable, docile one, acquiescent to a fault and utterly unable to stand up for herself.

‘Look, if you’re uneasy about me going alone with Michael, why don’t you come too?’ Jill said matter-of-factly. ‘Theodore’s father has already offered to pay for me and Michael and a friend—his suggestion, Sophy. He wrote I might feel more comfortable if I brought a friend along too. I’d much prefer you to come with me but I thought you’d probably be too busy. I know you’ve been backwards and forwards to Paris like a boomerang the last few weeks and I didn’t want to add to your stress levels!’

‘That’s all finished now the collections are reviewed,’ Sophy said thoughtfully. ‘The next few weeks will be more low-key, besides which I’ve still got some holiday left from last year, let alone this! When are you thinking of going?’

‘Any time. I’ll fit in with you,’ Jill said quickly. ‘Do you think you could come, then? Oh, Sophy, it’d make all the difference!’ And she burst into tears again which immediately settled the issue as far as Sophy was concerned, without another word being said.

Jill needed her. The job, work commitments and anything else came a very poor second to that.

The Greek airport was typical of all airports, crowded and noisy and confusing, but the journey had been relatively comfortable and Michael’s excited chatter had kept both women occupied and taken their minds off the forthcoming meeting with Theodore’s estranged family. Sophy had been busy with making sure their luggage was intact and that Michael didn’t disappear for the last few minutes—Jill being in something of a daze—and so she only became aware of the tall dark man waiting for them when Jill gripped her arm and breathed, ‘Sophy, that’s Andreas, Theodore’s brother—it has to be. Look how he’s watching us.’

She turned to look in the direction in which her sister was staring, keeping one hand on Michael who was jumping about like a small jack-in-the-box, and then became transfixed herself as her eyes met the hard, black, narrowed gaze riveted on the women.

There was no time to make any comment because in the next instant the man was making his way towards them, his tall, lean powerful body cutting through the crowd as though it didn’t exist.

‘Mrs Karydis? Jill Karydis?’ His voice was deep and gravelly and strongly accented, and dark eyes flashed from one twin to the other, eyes that were set in a face that was cold and handsome.

Jill seemed to have gone into some sort of frozen limbo, and after waiting a second Sophy was forced to say, ‘This is Jill,’ as she indicated the pale silent figure at her side, ‘and Michael too of course,’ as she brought her small nephew in front of her. ‘How do you do, Mr…?’

‘Please call me Andreas.’

As soon as she had spoken, he had transferred his attention to Jill, who was gripping Sophy’s arm as though her life depended on it, and still didn’t seem able to speak. And then, as he held out his hand, Jill seemed to come to life—much to Sophy’s relief—saying, ‘Hello, Andreas,’ as she let go of her sister’s arm. ‘Thank you so much for coming to meet us.’

‘It is a pleasure,’ Theodore’s brother said coolly.

Sophy could well understand Jill’s present state of shock because she was feeling a bit that way herself. The man in front of them was nothing like Theodore—which was a relief in one way. Theodore had been just a little taller than Jill, his light brown hair and brown eyes pleasant but unremarkable, and his body stocky if anything.

His brother was aggressively handsome, at least six foot tall, with a powerful top-heavy masculinity that didn’t detract from the lean muscled body’s impact on the senses. His eyes were not dark brown, as she had thought, but a deep compelling grey, and his hair was black—jet-black.

But there was one area in which Andreas’s resemblance to his brother was evident: there was no sign of softness about him at all. He could have been fashioned from a slab of granite.

And then Sophy had to recant the last thought as the grey eyes fastened on Michael’s inquiring young face, and, letting go of his sister-in-law’s hand, Andreas knelt down in front of his young nephew and said softly, ‘Manchester United, eh?’ He nodded gently at Michael’s tee-shirt—his favourite, which Sophy had bought her nephew for his last birthday—as he said, ‘I, too, am a fan of the football. We will have to have a kick around together, yes? You would like this, Michael?

‘Yes.’ It was said with great fervency. And then Michael added, his voice quieter, ‘You’re my daddy’s brother, aren’t you?’

Andreas didn’t move and his face didn’t change as he said softly, ‘Yes, Michael, I am your daddy’s brother, which makes me your uncle. This is good, eh? This means that already we are friends?’

Brown eyes, very like Theodore’s, stared into grey, and for a long moment Michael surveyed his new uncle. And then, coming to a decision which was self-evident, he smiled sunnily and nodded.

Andreas ruffled the boy’s hair before standing again, and Sophy was glad of the extra moment or two. This big, virile male was a little daunting, to say the least. Before he had spoken to Michael, she would have said he didn’t seem quite human, but then the complete metamorphosis had thrown her even more.

And then Andreas was looking directly at her, his grey eyes smoky dark and almost black, and his voice was smooth and expressionless as he said, ‘And this must be Sophy, yes? Jill’s letter did not prepare us for the event of there being two of her; she said merely that her sister would be accompanying her.’

Sophy stiffened immediately. She and Jill had been devoted to each other from tiny children, but both girls had always fought for their individuality from those around them, recognising that the fact that they were identical was a mixed blessing.

Some people automatically assumed that because they looked so uncannily alike they functioned with one brain and one voice. The truth of the matter was that they were dissimilar in temperament and behaviour. In fact, they were almost direct opposites.

‘How do you do, Andreas?’ Sophy said politely, but with a certain edge to her voice which was not lost on the dark man watching her so intently. ‘I’m Jill’s twin, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.’ She forced a cool smile and hoped he’d take the hint.

Andreas nodded, his gaze going over her steadily as though he was endeavouring to read what she was thinking. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Sophy,’ he said evenly, before turning again to Jill with an abruptness which made Sophy feel she had been cursorily dismissed. She blinked, staring at the cold male profile with a feeling of dislike as she heard Andreas say, ‘The car is waiting outside, if you are ready, and I know my parents are anxious to welcome you into their home. Shall we go?’

‘Yes, of course. Thank you,’ Jill said quickly.

Andreas had summoned a porter with an inclination of his head as he had been speaking and Jill’s quiet voice fell into an empty void as he spoke to the young man in rapid Greek.

Jill looked, and had sounded, utterly bemused, and as Sophy watched her sister smooth her straight silky fringe with nervous fingers, she frowned to herself. Jill was supposed to be coming here to relax and meet Theodore’s family in a spirit of reconciliation, and in Sophy’s opinion the Karydises were darn lucky her sister had bothered to make the effort, considering past history. This brother certainly needn’t act as though it was the family doing Jill a favour, she thought aggressively.

She watched her sister’s face, framed by its curtain of wispy ash-blonde hair which hung to her shoulders, and noted the tension written all over it with a further deepening of dislike for Andreas Karydis. She flicked back her hair, which was shorter than Jill’s and cut to frame her face in a gleaming chin-length bob, as her soft full mouth tightened. Who did this family think they were, anyway? Royalty, by the look of it.

And then she cautioned the quick temper which her mother had always insisted came from her father’s side of the family, and of which Jill had no trace. She didn’t know what Andreas was thinking; she could have read all this wrong. Maybe the distant, aloof manner he had displayed with her and Jill was habitual with the man. Jill had told her that Theodore’s argument with his family had begun long before he’d met her, but that when Theodore had chosen an English wife it had been the final straw.

That had been in the early days of her sister’s marriage, and when she had asked Jill why Theodore had quarrelled so bitterly with his kith and kin and come to England, Jill had been vague and changed the subject.

It had been two or three years later before her sister had admitted Theodore had refused to discuss his past life with his wife, and that she had no idea what had caused the rift. Even Christos, whose name Theodore had been given by a friend of a friend back in Greece before he’d left his native land, and with whom Theodore had struck up an immediate rapport on seeking him out on arriving in England, did not know, according to Jill.

A mystery. And Sophy had never liked mysteries. Everything had to be clear and straightforward, as far as she was concerned; she couldn’t have married Theodore for all the tea in China! Not that he would have asked her in the first place. A rueful smile touched her mouth. Jill’s husband had always made it plain in a hundred little unspoken ways that he’d had as little time for her as she had had for him. She had just never been drawn to the strong, silent, macho type of male; Heathcliff might be great in the book but a dark, brooding, moody type of man would be sheer murder to live with, as far as she was concerned.

And then she came out of her reverie as, the luggage being in place on the trolley, Andreas turned and took Jill’s arm, saying politely, ‘Shall we?’, his glance taking in Sophy and Michael before he strode off with Jill pattering along at his side.

Sophy smiled stiffly and hoped she hadn’t betrayed the jolt her senses had given as the piercing eyes had met hers. Strength and authority seemed to radiate from the man and it was too much, too overwhelming to be comfortable. Even the clothes he wore were a representation of the dark power that was in every glance, every gesture. All around them were colourful dresses and bright shirts, Bermuda shorts and cheeky tee-shirts vying with more elegantly flamboyant clothes worn by both sexes, but still undeniably cheerful and showy.

Andreas was wearing a brilliant white shirt, open at the neck, and plain charcoal trousers, and he was a monochrome of severity in all the brightness.

As they exited the building the full force of the June sun hit, the heat wrapping them round like a hot blanket, and Michael’s awe-struck voice as he said, ‘Wow! It’s really, really hot,’ brought his uncle turning round with a smile on his face.

‘England is not so warm, eh?’ he said indulgently, his tone of voice and the look on his face completely different with his small nephew than it was with the two women. ‘It is normally in the eighties here in June, but even hotter in July and August. You will find yourself spending much time in your grandparents’s swimming pool, I think. Like a little fish, eh?’

‘A swimming pool?’ Michael was elated, his big brown eyes shining. ‘They have one of their own?’ he asked in wonderment. He had recently learnt to swim at the local swimming baths and, although barely proficient, adored the water.

Andreas nodded. ‘But one end is very deep,’ he warned quietly, his eyes smiling into the little round face topped by a mass of curly light brown hair. ‘You must never venture into the water unless you are with a grown-up, Michael. This is a rule for all the children who visit my parents’s home, yes?’

‘Who are the other children?’ Michael asked immediately.

‘Relations and friends of the family. Do not worry, little one. You will meet them all in good time,’ his uncle said easily.

Andreas had been leading them across the vast car park as he had talked to Michael, and now, as he approached a long sleek limousine complete with driver, Michael’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. ‘Is this your car?’ he asked breathlessly. Cars were his passion. ‘Your very own?’

‘Yes, do you like it?’ Andreas asked, smiling at the enthusiasm.

Sophy had been viewing the light exchange between the two with something akin to amazement, and as she glanced at Jill she saw the same emotion in her twin’s eyes. The youngest member of their little party was clearly not in the least intimidated by his formidable relation!

‘It’s beautiful,’ Michael breathed reverently, stroking the silver metal with a respectful hand. ‘And this is my favourite colour.’ He walked round the car slowly, goggle-eyed.

‘Mine too.’ Andreas grinned at the small boy, and the two women exchanged a cryptic glance, reading each other’s minds as they so often did. It looked as if Andreas and Michael were friends already.

The chauffeur had been busy piling the luggage into the cavernous boot of the vehicle, and now Andreas called him over, his voice composed as he said, ‘This is Paul, my driver and also my friend.’ As the small lean man smiled a smile which showed blackened teeth, Andreas continued, ‘Mrs Karydis, Paul, and my nephew, Michael. And this is Miss…?’ as he included Sophy in the sweep of his hand.

‘Sophy Fearn. Mrs Sophy Fearn,’ Sophy said, smiling sweetly into the gnomelike face of the driver. The ‘Mrs’ was a small victory, nothing at all really, but it felt wonderful to be able to trip Theodore’s brother up on even a tiny detail.

There was a startled pause for just a second or two and then Andreas recovered immediately, his hard, handsome face hiding his thoughts as he said quietly, ‘I do apologise, Sophy. I was not aware you were married but of course I should not have assumed.’

No, you shouldn’t. Sophy held his eyes for just a moment, allowing her gaze to say the words she couldn’t voice, and then she smiled coolly, her voice polite and unconcerned as she said, ‘Not at all, Andreas, it’s perfectly all right. And I’m a widow actually,’ she threw in for good measure.

The grey eyes widened for a split second and again she knew she had surprised him. ‘I’m sorry.’

Sophy was aware of Michael fidgeting at the side of them and knew her nephew was longing to ride in the car, and so she kept the explanation brief, merely shrugging as she said, ‘My husband died three years ago and time helps.’ She hoped, she did so hope he wasn’t as crass as one or two of their friends had been with their sympathetic remarks after Theodore’s death along the lines of, ‘Such bad luck, the pair of you having such tragedies,’ and ‘I can’t believe you’ve both lost your husbands,’ as though she and Jill had been unforgivably careless.

But Andreas merely nodded, the compelling eyes holding hers for a moment longer before he opened the door of the limousine and helped them in, his manner formal in the extreme.

It was the first time he had touched Sophy, and the feel of his warm, firm flesh through the thin cotton sleeve of her light top was unnerving, although she wasn’t quite sure why.

Once inside the overtly luxurious car, Michael’s oohs and ahhs filled the air space and provided a bridge over any difficult moments, and then Paul was negotiating the big car out of the car park and they were on their way.

‘Have you been to northern Greece before?’ Andreas asked politely after a few minutes, his glance taking in both women.

‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ Jill answered quickly, ‘apart from a holiday in France with a load of other students when we were at university, but Sophy’s always dashing off somewhere or other abroad with her job. She’s used to travelling.’

‘Really?’ The dark gaze focused on Sophy’s face.

‘A slight exaggeration,’ Sophy said quietly. ‘I’m a fashion buyer so I have to pop over the channel now and again, and there’s been the odd visit to Milan and New York, but most of the time I’m sitting at my desk with piles of paperwork in front of me.’

‘A fashion buyer.’ It could have been her imagination but Sophy thought she detected a note of something not quite nice in the deep voice. ‘So you are a career woman, Sophy? An ambitious one?’

It was a perfectly reasonable question and if anyone else had asked it she wouldn’t have minded in the least, but somehow, coming from Andreas Karydis, it caught her on the raw. ‘I’m a woman in an extremely interesting job which I’ve worked very hard to attain and enjoy very much,’ Sophy said coolly, ‘but I don’t care for labels.’ It was dismissive but she kept it polite. Just.

She felt Jill shift uncomfortably at the side of her but Theodore’s brother appeared quite unmoved, his eyes holding hers for a moment longer before he nodded unconcernedly, turning to Jill again as he said, ‘I might be prejudiced, of course, but I consider this part of Greece one of the most beautiful. Halkidiki is mainly an agricultural area with pine woods and olive groves, and you’ll find it’s picturesque but with a timeless feel about it. In many places the people’s way of life is still little affected by the twenty-first century, and the land is lush and green with wide open spaces and plenty of golden beaches. It is a pity you did not come in the spring; the fields are hidden under a blanket of flowers then, although they are still pretty in summer.’

‘Have you lived here all your life?’ Jill asked nervously after a few seconds had ticked by in silence.

Andreas nodded, and then the piercing gaze swept over Sophy’s face for an instant as he said, his mouth twisting sardonically, ‘But, like your sister, I travel a little. My father has olive, lemon and orange groves on his estate, but his main interest has always centred in shipping. Now he is older he prefers to take things easy and leave the main bulk of the Karydis business interests to me to handle. This suits us both.’

Jill nodded and said no more, but Sophy’s mind was racing with a hundred and one questions she knew she couldn’t ask. Was Theodore’s family as wealthy as this car and the way Andreas had been speaking was making her think they were? Had Theodore been the younger or the elder son, and were there any more brothers and sisters? What had caused Theodore to leave this wonderful part of the world and make a new life in England? Question after question was presenting itself to her, but she forced herself to turn and look out of the car window as though she wasn’t aware of the big dark man sitting opposite her, Michael at the side of him chattering away nineteen to the dozen.

They had been travelling along a wide dusty road with rows of cypress trees flexing spearlike in the faint hot breeze on either side, but now they approached a small village dozing gently in the noonday sun. The glare of whitewashed walls was broken only by purple and scarlet hibiscus and bougainvillaea, and chickens were pecking desultorily here and there at the side of the road, their scrawny legs only moving with any purpose when the limousine nosed its way past.

‘Oh, there, Jill, look.’ Sophy nudged her sister as she pointed to a spring some way from the road, where a collection of women had brought amphora-shaped earthen jars to collect the pure sparkling water, the overspill from the spring filling a trough from which a small brown donkey was drinking. ‘Isn’t that just lovely?’ The two women were quite entranced.

‘The water is quite untainted,’ Andreas said quietly. ‘Most of the villages have their own water supply plumbed in these days, but still the women prefer to come to the meeting place and chat and gather the water for their families in the time-old tradition. I think maybe very few people have the need to see the doctor for this epidemic called stress which is so prevalent in the cities, eh?’ he added a touch cynically.

‘Will I be able to drink from a stream like that?’ Michael asked hopefully, ‘at my grandparents’s home?’

All attention drawn back inside the car, Sophy saw Andreas was smiling indulgently, his voice faintly rueful as he said, ‘I’m afraid not, Michael. Your grandparents have all the conveniences of the twenty-first century, which includes water coming out of taps. However, if that were not so you would not be able to enjoy your own pool during your stay, so maybe it is not so bad?’

The village passed, the car took a winding road where the occasional stone house set among lemon, fig and olive groves broke the vastness of green fields baking under a clear blue sky.

‘Why are those ladies wearing big boots?’ Michael asked his uncle a few minutes later, pointing to where sturdy women were busy working in the fields, their legs encased in enormous neutral-coloured leather knee boots and big straw hats on their heads. ‘Aren’t they too hot?’

‘It is for protection against the bite of snakes,’ Andreas said soberly. ‘It is not wise to work in the fields without them. This is Greece, little one. It is very different from England.’

He was very different too. Andreas was giving his attention to his small nephew, and it gave Sophy the chance to watch him surreptitiously. And she dared bet he was just as dangerous as any snake. How old would he be? She looked at the uncompromisingly hard handsome face, at the firm carved lips and chiselled cheekbones, the straight thin nose and black eyebrows. He could be any age from his late twenties right up to forty; it was that sort of face. A face that would hardly change with the years.

Theodore, at thirty-six years of age, had been eight years older than she and Jill, and in the last couple of years before his death had put on a considerable amount of weight and lost some of his hair. His brother was as different from him as chalk to cheese. But that happened in some families.

And then Sophy came to sharply as she realised he had finished talking to Michael and that he was looking straight at her, his eyes like polished stone and his eyebrows raised in mocking enquiry.

She flushed hotly, turning away and staring out of the window as her heart thumped fit to burst. He might look different, she qualified testily, but inside he was certainly a one hundred per cent Karydis, all right. Arrogant, cold, self-opinionated and dominating.

She had never understood what had drawn her sister to Theodore and how she could have remained married to him all these years, although once Michael had been on the way perhaps there had been little choice about the matter. Whatever, she couldn’t have lasted a week, a day—an hour with him! And, although she was sure Jill was unaware of it, her sister was already beginning to lighten up a bit and show more evidence of the old Jill who had become buried under the authoritative weight of her husband.

This might be exactly what it was purported to be—a pleasant holiday for Jill and Michael to meet their in-laws and establish a long distance relationship for the future, but for herself she wasn’t so sure about the purity of the Karydises’s motives. And there was no way, no way she would stand by and see her sister come under the oppression of another dictator, be it Theodore’s parents or his brother or the whole jam pack lot of them.

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin as though she was already doing battle. She would keep her eyes and ears open whilst she was here. She had always been far better than Jill at picking up any undercurrents, and she was doubly glad she had made the effort and accompanied Jill out here.

The Karydises might find Jill accommodating to a fault and somewhat naive, but they would discover her sister was a different kettle of fish if they tried to pull any fast ones!

The Greek Tycoon's Bride

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